


A Muscle The Size Of Your Fist

by DefaltManifesto



Category: Motorcity
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2014-07-26
Packaged: 2018-02-10 13:27:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2026797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefaltManifesto/pseuds/DefaltManifesto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes all Chuck needs is a little push.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Muscle The Size Of Your Fist

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a good friend of mine who was suffering from a severe lack of Motorcity fanfics. Title taken from Your Heart Is A Muscle The Size Of Your Fist by Ramshackle Glory. Enjoy~

[The tumblr](http://schizzar.tumblr.com)

 

"Hey, Mikey."

"Not now Dutch," Mike said. He glared at Mutt's engine as if it would fix itself if he looked angry enough.

"Actually, yes now," Dutch said.

Mike sighed and then turned to face him, wiping oil stained hands on one of the nearby rags. "What is it, man?"

"It's Chuck," Dutch said. "He's been working on the new senor program for our rides for the last like, sixteen hours. You have _got_ to pull that boy away before he passes out."

"Wait, _that's_ where he's been?"

Dutch rolled his eyes and cuffed Mike lightly on the side of his head. "Maybe open your eyes every once in awhile instead of burying your face in Mutt's engine. Texas and I tried to make him eat but he was too distracted."

"Right, okay," Mike said. "I'll go see what I can do. Thanks for the heads up, man."    

"Not a problem," Dutch said.

Mike headed into the back of their garage where Chuck had his rather fancy computer system set up. Chuck was seated in the middle of it all on a small wooden stool, back hunched and fingers flying across the multiple keyboards in front of him. On the counter next to him was a hunk of metal Mike recognized as Kane's latest weapon that had managed to slip under all their usual radar systems and nearly blown Mutt to bits.

Realization dawned on him then. Chuck was rather easy to read that way. Mike eased the door shut again as quietly as he could and then headed to Jacob's restaurant, a plan already hatching in his mind.

 

-.-

 

Chuck ran the scan again, resisting the urge to smash his fist through the computer scan when it failed to register Kane's weapon. He'd thought he had it earlier, but that turned out to just be a fluke, and really the situation had Chuck feeling like one big failure, which really was not fun on any level. It was his fault Mike had almost died yesterday, and it was going to be his fault if weapons their sensors couldn’t pick up attacked them all over again.

The door behind him opened and he spun around on his stool, surprised to see Mike standing there in Jacob's apron with a bowl of something warm and steaming that made his stomach growl.

"Oh hi, Mike."

"Hey Chuckles, thought you should maybe eat if you're going to be working this much," Mike said.

"Oh...I guess it has been awhile," Chuck said. "Did...Jacob make that? It actually smells good."

"Nope, I did. The name's really long and complicated though, so I'll spare you the title," Mike said as he set the bowl down in front of Chuck. "It's one of Jacob's recipes though. Turns out when you actually follow the recipe, it tastes great. He just tries improvising too much when he shouldn't." His hand settled as a warm weight on Chuck's shoulder and he ducked his head, trying to look Chuck in the eye. "You doing okay Chuck? You're working pretty hard."

Chuck gave a nervous laugh. "Yeah, fine, I'm fine, just trying to you know...make sure we don't get attacked by evil robots anymore."

"Then take a break. Your mind will work better once you got some food in you," Mike said.

His eyes were warm and kind, not even fazed by Chuck's past failure, like it wasn't even on his mind. Chuck swallowed and then picked up the spoon and began to eat. Mike shed the apron and hopped up on the counter, shifting over until he had his legs draped on either side of Chuck. Neither of them spoke as Chuck sucked down the food, filling his stomach with its warmth.

When he set the empty bowl aside, he couldn't help but burp a few times, his stomach a bit overwhelmed by how quickly he'd packed it away. Mike just gave a short laugh and ruffled Chuck's hair.

"Better now?"

"Yeah," Chuck said.

Chuck shifted closer and wrapped his arms around Mike's waist so he could press his forehead against the other's chest, an exhausted sigh blowing out from his lips. Mike's hand settled at the back of his neck and he squeezed hard.

"You're working too hard, Chuckles. You know what happened yesterday wasn't your fault. Sometimes we just can't keep up with the new stuff Kane wants to throw at us," Mike said. "You're doing more than fine Chuck, trust me. Seriously, you amaze me all the time. I don't know how you stay as caught up on technology as you do. A lesser man wouldn't be able to do it."

"Mike..." Chuck wanted to protest, but it was always impossible when Mike started showering him in praise like that. It was hard to argue when Mike was always so earnest and truthful. Chuck wasn't sure the man could lie if his life depended on it, not when it came to telling someone just what he thought of them. So he knew Mike was right, even if his own mind was still worried about the constant threats.

"Hey, look at me," Mike said.

Chuck eased back and looked up at Mike, blushing a bit when Mike brushed his bangs back so they could look one another in the eyes.

"You're doing just fine, Chuck. You're more than good enough for me," Mike said. He leaned forward and kissed Chuck's forehead, then his nose, and finally his lips before pulling back and beaming at him. "You go ahead and finish this up. I know it'd be stupid to ask you to stop before you've got it done. But you can do it, Chuck. You're more than smart enough."

Chuck smiled up at him, the first genuine smile he had in the last twenty-four hours. "Thanks Mikey."

Mike hopped down from the counter and hugged him tight before grabbing the bowl and heading out of the room. Chuck watched him leave, chest already feeling lighter and his mind already feeling like it could take on the last bit of work he needed to finish. Chuck turned back to the computer and got to work.


End file.
